


Failed Goodbye

by Rocketman23



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, also sorry?, the boi dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketman23/pseuds/Rocketman23
Summary: after getting into an argument with Hank, Connor searches for a child killing deviant and without his partner by his side, receives some serious injuries.





	Failed Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sat in my folders for forever so yay! impromptu angst!

Stripped of his senses, life seemed far duller than he expected. The once vibrant blue sky that greeted him each morning was a monotone of grey cloud. The once lush grass seemed dead in his eyes, waving limply in the breeze. Birds that hurried through the cold morning day, sang their usual songs but the notes fell on deaf ears. People passed by, disgusted looks on their faces and the occasional being that ran from him, screaming bloody murder and calling for the police.

Ah, yes. Connor supposes he did look a mess. Thirium dripping down his face and dropping to the ground. Was this supposed to hurt? Connor knows that it would but doesn’t much seem to care. He does have a bullet lodged in his head after all. His clothes were torn and if the many stains of blue were anything to go by, Connor would assume he had other injuries. 

He should never have left the house. Well, he should never have opened his mouth, regarding another android homicide. He remembers the body, vividly, small and broken and dead. Hank hadn’t reacted well to that.

He feels cold. At least, that what he thinks he feels. His synthetic muscles feel cold and his wiring where his gut would be, twists and tangles and dear god, this was horrible. The thirium doesn’t stop pumping from his body. He should find a place to rest.

People are pointing. No one comes to see if he is alright. Though by first glance, anyone could tell he wasn’t.

He really messed this up. He was meant to be good at his job, the best even and yet he had royally fucked up, as Hank put it. Connor doesn’t get very far down the street, swaying and tripping. Everything is blurry and as he bumps into the wall of a shop, a piece of his head falls off. It clatters to the ground and rings sharply for a second. He’s so tired. He didn’t think androids could get tired. He slouches against the wall and slowly slides to the ground.

His processors are locking up, the wiring in his head fizzes and sparks and impossibly more thirium cascades down his head, covering his left eye. His optical sensors were failing anyways. 

He can’t move. It’s kind of scary. Was this how he was going to die? Slowly and without Hank? Connor didn’t like that. His lip quivers and he wonders briefly if crying was a function imputed into his systems.

It’s not, at most a strangled whine makes it out of his throat, clawing past his parted lips. Connor doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to be replaced. He’s Hanks partner and no one else’s and he ever so briefly wanders if Hank would even care. They shouldn’t have fought, childish of him to bring up past trauma like that.

Error messages fill his vision and his body locks into its last position. Connors mind swims and he wishes there was a way to come back from this but there isn’t and never would be.

“I don’t want to die” he whispers to no one.

“I don’t want to die” he feels his vision swaying and knows soon he will enter shutdown mode. 

“Please” he’ll never seen the blue sky of a summer day.

“Please” he’ll never get to pet Sumo’s fluffy fur again.

“Pl…ease” he’ll never chuckle at Hanks ridiculous clothing choices or groan at his witty puns. There’s a buzzing sound and he knows it’s almost time.

He will never see Hank, his partner and somewhat father figure, again.

“Pl…ea…se” he chokes on the word and his voice is full of static. There’s a siren in the distant and if he just holds on a little longer, just a little longer, he can make it. 

A car screeches to a halt. Connors head tilts forward.

A door slams shut. Dimly he hears rushed voices. The thirium that pumped regrettably from his head slows to a stop.

His eyes sag shut. He doesn’t want to see.

“Connor!” Hank yells, desperation and fear and sorrow all bundled tightly together in that one calling of his name.

But it’s already too late. 

Hank bundles Connors prone form into his arms and weeps and doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> heya!  
> if ya liked this fic please leave a kudos and comment below!  
> seeya in the next one!


End file.
